I don't think I've ever plugged another site other than K-Fingerett's lovely page but I found this somewhere and have become strangely captivated.
This guy is an Army vet who lost his right arm in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan, and he is currently taking a trip around America to see and meet the people for whom he gave his arm.
I'm a pretty liberal guy. I do not agree with our country's presence in Iraq. I detest our idiot president. I think America needs a drastic makeover in terms of international relations. But I am behind America's military men and women one hundred percent, and whether or not I agree with any war or military conflict involving America is irrelevant. This man gave his arm in the service of his country, and no matter what I think, that is deserving of every ounce of respect I can give.
If any of you who read this - and thanks to all six of you - have a chance, check out his site. His updates are frequent and really entertaining. And, if possible, make a donation. Gas ain't free you know...
How 'bout that? An entire post without using the word "fuck." Aww fuck I fucked it up.
Whatever, check out Daniel's site. You won't be disappointed.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Please Tell Me This Was A Bad Dream
About a week ago I was out with Friend Victor on Water St. and North Ave. in Milwaukee. Going out with Victor virtually guarantees that something ridiculous will happen because, very much like me, Victor loves to get absolutely hammered and make his own fun. He is, to put it simply, a very forward and blunt person. Basically, our goal for the night was to "drank some dranks" and see if we couldn't get ourselves arrested.
I will never be the same again.
One of the bars we went to, a place called Cans, is considered one of Milwaukee's premiere "singles" bar, mainly for the derth of slutty women and horny, douche bags guys that populate it. I had been there once or twice before and did not like it at all, but somehow we ended up inside. It was a Thursday night, and for some reason the bar was not nearly as crowded or douche-ey as I remembered it being. Perhaps I hadn't been drinking enough. As I was about to find out, there was no amount of alcohol that could prepare me for what happened next.
I was standing near one of the two bars inside talking with Victor when a girl of Latina descent approached us and started talking. She said she was from San Juan and mentioned something about just graduating from a tech school in Milwaukee with a degree in "clothing design." Victor and I both give her shit about her fake degree and she keeps talking. All the while I'm looking at her and thinking to myself that something is just not right. She continues to talk and says "See I made this dress myself," and then she twirls around to show off her dress. And then, as if god himself was mocking me, she kind of lifts her dress to show that she is wearing lycra bike shorts. "Why is she wearing bike shorts?" I ask myself. At this point I walk about fifteen feet to the other bar with Victor to get away from this girl who won't leave us alone. Not seconds later she comes up behind me and grabs my ass causing me to turn around violently. She proceeds to put her hands on my face and say "You are so hot. So hot. You wanna dance?" All this happens while Victor quietly slinks away to go talk to another group of girls. Asshole. It was then that I realized something that will never, ever in my life leave me:
Oh sweet motherfucking Christ. This girl is a fucking MAN! I AM BEING HIT ON AND FELT UP AND HAVING MY FACE CARESSED BY A FUCKING TRANNY!
I grabbed her hands from my face and turned to the bar in a split second, ordering four shots of whiskey as fast as I possibly can. I was fucking traumatized. A few seconds later a real female walks up to the bar next to me and orders a drink. I look at her for a second, and then ask: "You didn't used to have a penis, right? I mean, you weren't born a man were you?" This, as expected, did not go over well. I grabbed Victor from the other bar and we left. I couldn't handle it.
For the rest of the night, any girl that would come up to talk to me was greeted with a very simple question: "You were born a woman, right?"
I don't think I'll ever recover from this.
Fucking tranny.
I will never be the same again.
One of the bars we went to, a place called Cans, is considered one of Milwaukee's premiere "singles" bar, mainly for the derth of slutty women and horny, douche bags guys that populate it. I had been there once or twice before and did not like it at all, but somehow we ended up inside. It was a Thursday night, and for some reason the bar was not nearly as crowded or douche-ey as I remembered it being. Perhaps I hadn't been drinking enough. As I was about to find out, there was no amount of alcohol that could prepare me for what happened next.
I was standing near one of the two bars inside talking with Victor when a girl of Latina descent approached us and started talking. She said she was from San Juan and mentioned something about just graduating from a tech school in Milwaukee with a degree in "clothing design." Victor and I both give her shit about her fake degree and she keeps talking. All the while I'm looking at her and thinking to myself that something is just not right. She continues to talk and says "See I made this dress myself," and then she twirls around to show off her dress. And then, as if god himself was mocking me, she kind of lifts her dress to show that she is wearing lycra bike shorts. "Why is she wearing bike shorts?" I ask myself. At this point I walk about fifteen feet to the other bar with Victor to get away from this girl who won't leave us alone. Not seconds later she comes up behind me and grabs my ass causing me to turn around violently. She proceeds to put her hands on my face and say "You are so hot. So hot. You wanna dance?" All this happens while Victor quietly slinks away to go talk to another group of girls. Asshole. It was then that I realized something that will never, ever in my life leave me:
Oh sweet motherfucking Christ. This girl is a fucking MAN! I AM BEING HIT ON AND FELT UP AND HAVING MY FACE CARESSED BY A FUCKING TRANNY!
I grabbed her hands from my face and turned to the bar in a split second, ordering four shots of whiskey as fast as I possibly can. I was fucking traumatized. A few seconds later a real female walks up to the bar next to me and orders a drink. I look at her for a second, and then ask: "You didn't used to have a penis, right? I mean, you weren't born a man were you?" This, as expected, did not go over well. I grabbed Victor from the other bar and we left. I couldn't handle it.
For the rest of the night, any girl that would come up to talk to me was greeted with a very simple question: "You were born a woman, right?"
I don't think I'll ever recover from this.
Fucking tranny.
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